


To Victory!

by Batsymomma11



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily Feels, Drinking, Gen, Joyful, Singing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Victory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsymomma11/pseuds/Batsymomma11
Summary: The Batfamily celebrates a hard-won victory with song and drink.





	To Victory!

**Author's Note:**

> Very short one-shot with the batfamily getting a bit drunk. Not exactly canon.   
> I do not own DC or its characters.   
> I do own the story. Enjoy!

            “Master Bruce, don’t you think it might be time to go to bed?”

            “No, no Alfred. Not yet. We’ve only just begun.”

            A strum of chords, a bit of boisterous laughter and the rich scent of Glennfidich is swamping the air.

            “Join us Alfred,” Dick grins sloppily, eyes dancing with mirth as he offers a wet glass of scotch to their butler. “It’s more fun if you do.”

            “Yes, I’m sure.”

            “Come on Alf, don’t be like that.”

            A hiccup, then some more strumming as a song starts to beat against the air, the rise of terrible singing becoming cacophonous. Todd slaps a hand on the table, belting out the chorus with gusto and Bruce strums the guitar stretched over his knees in time with it. Damian’s head lolls off his fisted hand and he jerks when Tim elbows him in the ribs.

            “Masters, its late. I should turn in.”

            “No Alfred!” Bruce calls, jumping to his feet, swaying only a little as he makes a grab for the butler to steer him over to the seat by Bruce. “Sing that old song you used to do when I was a boy. I liked it.”

            Despite the slurring words, Alfred is forced to smile and he shakes his head as the boys begin chanting his name.

            They’ve been at it for hours. Drinking, singing, cutting lose to the point that no one would recognize them as vicious or cutthroat men. No one would think the scars they wear are from heartache and pain. Or that they are more accustomed to a grimace than a smile. No, they are men without pasts tonight. Men high off victory and greased well with scotch. Alfred cannot blame them for it.

            It was a hard-won victory.

            Gotham will live to see another day.

            “Alright, alright. Pipe down now,” Alfred grins, waiting until Bruce strums the proper chord to begin. When he does, the song pours out of him easily enough. He remembers the words and the melody, though it sounds almost chilling in his aged thinning tone.

            Everything goes soft and still and for a moment, the sadness is back, brief and bitter.

            When he finishes, Alfred sighs, “Well now, perhaps we ought to head to bed, yes?”

            Bruce smiles wearily, glossy gray eyes dragging over the table and his boys.

            “You boys did well today.”

            “We all did,” Jason agrees, smiling widely.

            Dick starts giggling and then the stifling sensation of the melancholy song Alfred had sung drips away in favor again of the joy. Of the freedom.

            Alfred leaves when Tim and Dick start to sing a discordant and painful duet of Bulletproof and Jason has dissolved into fitful snorts and giggles. Damian is fast asleep, his face pressed into the table, with a bit of drool slipping out of his mouth.

            Bruce, red-faced and grinning from ear to ear, has never looked happier. It makes Alfred’s chest ache to know that come morning, that smile will be gone and everything will go back to business as usual. But at least for now, it shines bright enough to make Alfred smile right up until he falls asleep, tucked snuggly beneath his quilt.


End file.
